Magic, Mischief, and Maids
by M. Michelon
Summary: Camelot has expelled magic for the last twenty years. King Uther has killed any and all involved with witchcraft, save the infant child he took in twenty years earlier. There is enough mischief in the castle with one young magician, never mind two. Can Jaycee help Merlin protect Arthur? Or will Arthur find himself mixed up in magic, mischief, and maids?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: Okay, so here's the latest from me. I was torn between doing a ****_Les Miserables _****story (which may still happen) and a story for ****_Merlin_****. Your votes determined that a ****_Merlin_**** story would be preferred; so here it is. Now, I have a few little housekeeping things to get out of the way.**

**For those who have never read my works before, I have a couple of warnings. I am a ****_slow_**** writer. I don't mean that the updates will take long or that I type slow; I mean that I like for stories and characters to develop. Secondly, I am very fond of AUs and changing things about a bit.**

**Which brings me to the premise of the story. If you are a steadfast follower of the show, then I don't know if this story will be for you. I will be changing relationships, adding characters, and probably extending it passed BBC One's final season (since the show ended a little abruptly for my liking). Okay? So, that gets all of my announcements out of the way for today. I need ****_THREE REVIEWS _****before I will post a second chapter, just to see that people are in fact interested. I hope you all enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

"They're nothing more than children. You have to spare their lives," he pleaded, seeing the woman before his eyes. Her hair was brown, but tinged deep red. It was as if even her hair knew of the blood she had on her hands. His son stood behind him, his arms wrapped around a sobbing child and a wailing infant. "My children are innocent in all of this. If you want retribution, take it from me."

"Father, no!" his son screeched.

"Morgana is innocent as well; her father isn't here to bargain for her life, but if you feel it necessary to take mine for hers as well, then do so," he insisted. "Let the children go. James, Jaycee, Morgana; they're infants, Nimueh. Even you cannot be so heartless as to kill _children_."

"Were not the children of my people slaughtered? Has your king not seen them beheaded and burned at the pyre for the mistakes of their parents? Some of them are even more innocent than that and yet they are still dead." The woman's dark hair had been pulled back from her creamy white face, but it didn't make her look any softer. In fact, the style brought out the sharpness of her features and the wildness in her eyes. "I merely did what the king asked of me. I gave him the son that he demanded and, in return, he kills my people."

"And so you will kill my son, my daughter? The daughter of a man who has done you no harm? What justice does this give to your people?" the knight continued.

"There must be balance in the world. People that I love are dead. Uther Pendragon must pay for the pain that he has caused my people," she snarled.

"James, you take your sister and the Mistress Morgana and run," he commanded of his young son. The ten-year-old looked up at his father, the hesitation clear in his eyes. "You must go, James; you must look after your sister from now on. You need to be a brave lad. Go to the King; as him for work. He will take care of you and your sister. And never doubt how much I loved—"

His words were cut off by the witch's muttering behind him. James watched in horror as his father's expression screwed into one of pain. The young boy tucked Morgana's face into his side and clutched his younger sister closer to his chest, trying desperately to hide his own face in his sister's blanket or the younger girl's midnight black hair. "Run!" his father gasped out, the world strangled in his throat as they blended with his tortured cry of pain. "Run, James!"

Cradling his sister more securely against his chest and wrapping a frail, young arm around Morgana's shoulders, he dragged the two of them along with him as he sprinted towards the castle. "Keep going," he urged Morgana as the young girl started to slow down a little, exhaustion weighing on his heavily. "We cannot stop. We have to—" The boy's words were drowned out by the bloodcurdling scream. "Father!" James stopped, turning to look back at the dark forest in which he'd seen his father.

Jaycee began sobbing, the infant's wailing breaking into the young boy's nerves. He couldn't just turn back, couldn't go and try to help his father. No; he had his sister to think about. That was the responsibility that his father had placed on his shoulders. He couldn't let his sister down. "Come, Morgana!" The two-year-old struggled to keep up with the boy's longer legs, but she didn't stop trying, didn't stop running. "King Uther!" James shouted as they neared the castle. "King Uther!"

"Hold, boy," the king said, his brown hair hanging on his forehead and his eyes narrowed. "James, isn't it? You're Sir Killian's boy."

"I am, My Lord, but my father—Nimueh—fighting—dead…" he panted out. "Told me…to come…to you." Uther's face fell as he took in the three children, Morgan huddled against the boy's side and clinging to his waist.

"Morgana," Uther muttered, realizing who this child was. "Take the children into the castle," he called to one of the guards. "Bring the young one to Arthur's wet nurse." Uther knelt before the brave lad who was still clutching his sister close, even as a guard tried to take the infant from his arms. "It's all right now, James. You were a good boy; you did just as your father asked. Now, go on inside. The knights will find your father and bring him back."

They brought him back, but not alive. James looked on, his young arms wrapped around his sister's body, watching his father's body burn. Uther laid a hand on the ten-year-old's shoulder, wishing that there was something he could do to help the young boy, to bring Sir Killian back. "You shall have a place here in the castle, James. Your father was one of my most loyal men; we will provide for you and your sister."

"We cannot live on charity, My Lord," James replied, trying to think of his father's words to him. There was no honor in taking from someone what you could earn, especially not when there was someone else who needed it and couldn't work. "Would it be at all possible, My Lord, for me to work in the stables? I am good with horses. My father taught me. I could pay for the wet nurse my sister will need."

"Your father has taught you well, boy. Yes; I will let the stable master know to expect you next week," Uther said with a smile. "Your sister shall stay with my son Arthur in the nursery. The wet nurse and nanny will see to her."

"Then I can begin tomorrow," James stuttered, his voice catching as he fought the urge to sob. "There is no need for me to waste time."

"You need some time to grieve, lad." Uther squeezed his shoulder. "Your father died with honor, James. Nimueh is a powerful sorceress. She would have killed you, your sister, and young Morgana if you had not been so brave. Your father has taught you a great many things, lad, but his death will have taught you the most important lesson. Magic, _all_ magic, is evil. It causes nothing but death and destruction."

"Of course, My Lord."

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><p><strong>Author's Note Cont.: So this is just the background to explain a few things. Three reviews, and you guys could see Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, and all the other characters. Okay? Please <strong>**review!**


	2. Chapter I

**Author's Note: I'm so glad to see the reaction that I got to the prologue for this story. Truth be told, I'm really excited to write this story. It's something that has been stuck in my brain for a while and I've been very hesitant to put it out there. Let me just explain a couple of things here, before we get started. PLEASE READ. The first five chapters of any story are, in my opinion, vital to its success. Either readers are happy with the author's work and want to continue to read, or they feel like it's not worth their time. For that reason, for the first five chapters, I will have a number of reviews I would ****_like_**** to see. These reviews tell me whether or not this story is ready for publication or whether I need to take it down and rework it. Okay? So, for tonight, I'd like to see at least TWO REVIEWS from readers. It can be that you enjoyed the chapter, that you're looking forward to the next chapter, or that you think I should take it down. All reviews are read and appreciated. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chap<strong>**ter I**

_She could see it all, everything that was coming after him. "Arthur, no!" she plead with him. "Arthur!" He didn't turn around, wasn't heading her warning. "Arthur!" she screamed again. Except that she couldn't see what he was fighting against. She couldn't find a way to help him, to save him from his misery. Her heart thundered as she fought the darkness, struggled to find light in the midst of all the darkness around her. "Arthur," she begged. She had to find a way to save him. He was her best friend. He was—_

_ A blue light appeared in the darkness, as clear as the sky on the best of days. It shivered in the black, moving closer and closer to the silhouette that was Arthur. She fought, screamed, sobbed. Anything she could to draw Arthur's attention, unsure whether this was friend or foe that floated closer to the prince. "Don't hurt him. You cannot hurt him!" she protested. Arthur's hair began to glow, the natural golden color of it turning to the metallic beauty. His skin became nearly angelic, the right almost like a halo about his face. _

_ And then the purple appeared, more dangerous and darker than the black that surrounded the two of them already. It came closer and closer, fighting against the light that seemed to protect Arthur. "No!" she whispered as the blue began to fade. She could see the silhouette of Camelot before her, the once great city crumbling to dust. Arthur falling to his knees. _"Arthur!" she screeched, jerking herself upright.

The small cabin was ablaze with light, every candle burning at its brightest. "Damn it, Jaycee; put them out," James snarled, pushing to his feet and glaring down at his sister. Jaycee panted, her hand pressed against her chest, her lips shaking a mile a minute. "Must have been a bad one," her older brother muttered. "I'll fetch you some water; then you can tell me all about it." He patted her shoulder gently and left her to draw the water from their bucket, blowing out the candles as he walked by. "I know that it's not always something that you can control, Jaycee, but you'll have to find a way. If any of the men walked by and saw this, the King would have your head on a platter. Our father be damned," he muttered darkly, sinking down on the bed.

He forced the metal cup into her hands, urging her to drink and hoping she'd calmed enough to talk to him. "What was the dream about? Arthur again?" he watched her take another sip, noting absently that she would be needing another nightgown shortly. Or, at least, a clean one of his shirts to wear to bed. "You know, I'm getting tired of you having dreams about your best friend. Especially since you couldn't have Magdalen or Guinevere as your best friend; had to be Arthur."

"He's your best friend, too," Jaycee muttered, holding the cup between both palms.

"Yes, but seeing as I don't have magic and I don't _dream_ about him, I think it's a little different, Jaycee. Now, talk about your dream," James commanded. His sister was eighteen now. It had been nearly two decades since their father had passed and they'd been brought to the King's castle. So much had changed for them and yet, even more remained the same. James no longer worked in the stables, having been knighted when he was only seventeen for saving the king from a horse that had nearly killed him. He and Jaycee were given their father's old home in the village, the one he'd owned before Sir James Killian IV had met their mother.

Jaycee and Arthur had become the best of friends during their youth, when they'd shared nursemaids, wet nurses, and a nursery. The two had always been inseparable, regardless of what was going on around them. Arthur was not only James's prince, but his dearest friend as well. Arthur saw the knight as an older brother of sorts. Which made sense, considering the amount of time that James spent in the nursery when Arthur had been but a babe himself. "I can't explain it, James. It's just like the last one. I'm standing there and Camelot is crumbling, but there is nothing that I can do to stop it. And Arthur's there, but there's something wrong. I can't get to him; I can't save him." She shook her head, tears filling her eyes again.

"And then the blue light shows up," James filled in, having heard the story before.

"I swear it's there to help him, James. I can feel it in my bones. It's not there to hurt him, but that purple light…It's dark, James. I can feel the magic in the both of them but that one is dark and _bad_," she insisted.

"We've talked about this before, Jaycee. You cannot tell Arthur about the dreams. Arthur knows you have magic, but he doesn't know the extent. What he knows about is what you can control. If he knew that there is more you can't control—"

"I can control all of it," Jaycee jumped in. "I can. These dreams are just…they're not like my magic. I can't stop them from coming. I can't make them go away. And I can't, for the life of me, figure them out."

"And you can't _control_ them," James snapped. "Now, quit being an impertinent brat and let me finish." His sister's shoulders slumped as she was defeated. "As I was saying, Arthur keeps your secret because he thinks that you can control it. More importantly, he thinks you _never_ use it. If Arthur were to find out that there is more to your abilities, Jaycee, he'd have no choice but to tell his father. You may have been too young to remember what King Uther told me the night he took us in, but I do. He'll have you beheaded without a second thought."

"I've never hurt anyone," the young girl practically shouted. "For twenty years, I've been using magic, James, and for twenty years I have been the only one to pay the price."

"And I will not see you pay the ultimate price, Jaycee. I will not see you hanged or burned at the stake because of the way that you were born. I promised our father that I would protect you." James growled, feeling the frustration of that day rising in his throat again. He could see it all so clearly, could recall everything that had happened. "You need your sleep, Jaycee. Get some rest before you have to go to work in the morning."

"James, I know how much my magic bothers you," Jaycee began. "I can't always stop it. No matter how much I want to. I can control it, but there are certain things, like the nightmares…If I could change myself—"

"I wouldn't want that, Jay," he said softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against her forehead. "I wouldn't want to change one hair on your stubborn, sweet, obnoxious head."

"Spoken like a true brother."

"Yes it is. Now go to sleep, Jaycee. You have work waiting for you in the morning," he insisted.

Work was, in fact, waiting for her when she woke a few hours later. The image of a crumbling Camelot and despondent Arthur was still locked in her brain, but it wouldn't be enough to hold the day away. As James had pointed out, Arthur had been keeping her secret for nearly two decades because he knew that she could control it. If he found out that there was more that she could do…Jaycee couldn't abuse Arthur that way.

She straightened her dress again, smoothing her apron over her waist and stomach again, looking through the basket that she was bringing with her. She'd baked Arthur's favorite muffins; now she just had to make sure that no one on the street saw her toting around so many baked goods. She would have a riot on her hands. She artfully arranged the napkins and fabric atop the breads. Of course, looking down, she couldn't see the road in front of her.

Or the man that she was straight into.

"Uh," she grunted, clinging to her basket in an attempt to keep the goods safe. "Watch where you're walking," she shouted before looking up at the person standing in front of her. He definitely looked new. She'd never seen him before. "My pardon," she whispered, sinking down into a short curtsy. Though his clothing proved that he was hardly a man of noble birth, the last thing that she needed was to be called rude. Especially being a servant in the king's household. She had to be cautious, just in case the boy was some other noble's servant. "Is there anything that I can help you with, sir?" she asked softly.

"No, no. I just, uh," the young man shifted his backpack, the sack having fallen in their collisions. "I'm looking for the castle. I'm to meet Gaius." His hair was short on his forehead and black as midnight. In fact, it looked nearly blue in the light.

"I'm heading that way. I can show you," she whispered. She didn't want to show him anything, really. But she had to cover her own ass. If Arthur or Gaius had to bail her out of trouble one more time, they were going to kill her. Actually, Gaius would probably put her to work cleaning the sections of particularly foul smelling potions. Arthur would be the one who killed her. "What brings you to Camelot?" she asked politely.

"My mother sent me here to train under Gaius. To train and stay out of trouble," he explained, still struggling with his bag. "My name is Merlin."

"Jaycee." She extended her hand to him across her body. "I'm a servant in the king's household. I can show you where Gaius is. Besides, the prince will probably have me heading to Gaius for something or another." _To hide me when I do something wrong,_ she corrected in her head. "I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of one another."

"It will be nice to have a friend in Camelot," Merlin replied, keeping stride with the woman. He hair was the color of corn silk and hung in a single braid down her spine. The frizzy tail of it brushed her hips as she walked. Her uniqueness was culminated by eyes that were the color of freshly picked lavender. "How long have you lived here?"

"Since I was a baby," she replied as they neared the gates, silently using as she saw the group of people that had gathered. "We should keep going," she informed the boy. Merlin was staring about in wonder, obviously appreciating Camelot's beauty. The drums began then, as the prisoner was brought from the dungeon.

"What's going on?"

"You don't want to know," she assured him, trying to urge him forward.

"Let this serve as a lesson," Uther began, his voice drawing Merlin to a halt. "This man, Thomas James Collins, is judged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. And pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass."

"He's not going to kill him, is he?" Merlin asked.

"We really should go," Jaycee whispered again. It wasn't as if she needed a reminder of what would happen to her if she were caught, but if she had… The drums began sounding once again, their rhythmic banging warning what was to come. Jaycee winced as she felt it happen, heard the gasp run through the crowd. It was the same every time that Uther sentenced someone of magic to death. She could feel the pain of it, the ending of something great and powerful in the world. It was an unfortunate gift. It meant that she also knew when Uther had sentenced an innocent man, woman, or child to death.

"Let the celebrations begin!" the king was saying, but his words were drowned out by a pained sob, a moan that sounded through the square.

"There is only one evil in this land," an older woman was saying. Jaycee looked down at the ground, hiding her face against her hair. "You took my son. But I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A son for a son." Jaycee's heart dropped as she heard the obvious threat to Arthur. She heard Uther order her capture, heard the spell the woman muttered to disappear.

"Merlin, Gaius is just up that hallway there. You'll have to excuse me. I have to get to work," she said.

"Yes, yes; of course," he said as Jaycee was already turning away from him and sprinting up the stairs. "Guess they weren't kidding when they said that magic was banned."

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><p><strong>Author's Note Cont.: So, unless I receive an overwhelming number of reviews, the next update will be Thursday. Okay? Oh, and for those who have seen the show, we'll be spending a little time on the show's pilot as an exposition for a few things and combining a few episodes into one single chapter. REVIEW<strong>


	3. Chapter II

**Author's Note: Hey guys. I cannot apologize enough for the delay between chapters. I'm so very sorry. Believe it or not, I'm really good at time management. Of course, I can only manage time wen I know what's coming at me. I got called into work on both my days off but have been promised by my bosses that I'll have today and tomorrow (and hopefully Wednesday) off. So, here's the second chapter for you. I just have a couple of housekeeping things to get out of the way for this story.**

**It will be both a Arthur/OC and Merlin/OC story; I will be introducing a character for Merlin (who was neglected after Freya's death in the series). A lot of things will be changing with the episodes that are in the series. I hope you will all enjoy and continue to follow. Oh, and to make up for the craziness, if I get ****THREE REVIEWS**** this evening (before midnight MT) I will post chapter three. Okay? **

**Thanks for reviewing, guys. As someone who sincerely struggles with her confidence and abilities as a writer, it's fantastic to see the reviews that you all leave. It makes it worth while. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter II<strong>

Jaycee raced up the stairs to Arthur's chambers, her heart pounding in her chest. For years, looking after Arthur had been her responsibility. This old woman wasn't the first person with magic who sought revenge against Uther through his son. It was more than likely that she wouldn't be the last. Arthur was alive because of all the trouble she went through to make sure that he stayed that way, even back when her magic was still new to her. He had learned to heed her warnings against threats of sorcery.

"My Lord?" she called hesitantly into the chamber. "My Lord, I have brought your breakfast." It was only a partial lie, since she was holding the pastries in hand. When she received no response, Jaycee gently pushed the door open and called again. "Arthur? It's me; it's Jaycee," she whispered, hoping that none would hear her from the exterior of the chambers. The room was a disaster, total chaos. "'Servant is just a title, Jaycee,' he says. 'You'll always be more than that to me,' he promises. And yet I'm still the one in here making the bed and cleaning his mess when he's late for training in the morning."

Knowing that it was useless to go searching for Arthur, she placed her basket on the table in the antechamber and sighed, looking around. Arthur would be safe enough training with the elite Knights. He could wait. Her chores could not. The bed's covers had been flung from the mattress, the sheets in a tangle at its foot. His clothing, clean and dirty alike, was strewn around the room. He'd been undoubtedly searching for his sword belt, which she'd neatly folded and put in his armoire the night before. "Of course, with Arthur, that's about as good as hiding it in the vaults," she muttered, grabbing the sheets and pulling them back into their proper place.

"Jaycee? Are you here yet?"

"I'm in here, Gwen. Cleaning the prince's filthy chambers, as usual," Jaycee grumbled. "How he manages to get it this dirty in one day, I'll never understand. He's like a pig. He just grabs what he wants and tosses it around if it's not what he thought."

"You shouldn't say such things, Jaycee. Someone might overhear you," Guinevere cautioned. "Your brother may be a Knight of Camelot, but it won't stop King Uther from punishing you."

"It always has it the past," she said, looking over her shoulder with a smile. Gwen didn't look amused in the slightest. "I was raised alongside Arthur. The King wouldn't punish me because he knows that I could never be disloyal to his son or to him. They took me in from infancy. If it hadn't been for them, James and I would have died as children."

"But you are a woman of noble breeding who is acting as servant to the prince," Gwen pointed out. "The King could easily find motive for any betrayal. We see him do it all the time, Jaycee."

"My noble breeding stopped mattering when I became an orphan, Gwen. My father wasn't like Gorlois. Uther respected him, but their friendship extended little farther than that. Besides, our father always told James that it wasn't enough to be born noble. Your actions had to prove you a nobleman as well. My brother sought that respect through his work and instilled the same lesson in me. I've been working in the king's household for years now. I was fortunate enough to get to be straight here instead of a lower servant. Noble blood means nothing, Gwen. I was raised a servant. That's who I am," Jaycee assured her. "How is Morgana? I saw her watching the execution from the window."

"She does that every time," Gwen replied, stacking the plates on the table. "It is as if something draws her to them, as if she must watch those people. She grieves for them, for the lives that are lost and for the families who are left without." She shook her head sadly. "I don't know how to help her, though. She needs the time to be alone afterwards, so I leave her to her grief." She shrugged and gave a half smile.

"King Uther's ruling on magic…" she trailed off, while her mind searched for the right words. _Is unfair, unjust…forces those of us who do noting bad to hide from the rest of the world._ "It is necessary to protect Camelot from those who would harm him."

"I do understand that," Gwen assured her. "I just wish that there was another way. I wish that he didn't have to put everyman, woman, or child to death." Jaycee took a deep breath, licking her lips. Gaius had taught her some. Enough to know that not all enchantments and spells could simply be undone. Some of them required the death of the one who'd created it. "I should get back to my chores. I'll see you at dinner this evening? For the feast."

Jaycee nodded and turned her attention back to her chores. It hardly seemed right to be celebrating the death of a man, the death of hundreds of men and women, even children. Magic had killed Uther's wife. He had retaliated in the only that he knew how. He had killed all those associated with sorcery, except for the witch who had been the source of the spell. He'd outlawed all magic, making certain that his was the last voice all of them would hear before they were executed. Picking up the rug from his bedside, Jaycee pushed aside the glass covering the window and began to beat the thing against the stone wall of the castle's exterior.

Arthur was below, safe and whole. He was smiling and laughing, blonde hair shimmering in the sun and blue eyes alight with amusement. He was so unaware of the dangers that he faced because of his father's cree. It was a well known fact that Uther Pendragon cared for none, loved not a soul, save his son. Arthur was his world, the last remaining piece of a woman that he'd loved. "Jaycee? Jaycee, are you in there?" Gaius voice was screaming, bouncing off the walls of the hallway as he neared the chamber door. "Jaycee?"

"I'll be finished in here in a moment, Gaius. Then I can deliver those medications for you," she assured him, tossing her braid over her shoulder to make sure that Gaius heard her. His footsteps clattered on the ground, the hinges squeaking as it clattered to an abrupt close. "Gaius, what is it?" she asked, instantly alert.

The old man's hair hung to the tops of his shoulders, white as the snow that covered the ground in winter. His eyes were dark with worry, his mouth pressed into one thin line. "You have met my new ward, Merlin?" he asked, his voice hushed.

"Yes; he walked through town this morning when I was on my way to the castle. I walked him here. We watched Uther behead another sorcerer. It was a wonderful bonding moment," Jaycee grumbled, pulling the window shut. "What is this about?"

"You didn't sense anything? Nothing strange about him?"

"Except for the fact that he looks like a string-bean, no. What is going on, Gaius? You're starting to scare me."

"Merlin has magic," he hissed at her, leaning over the table. "More powerful than yours, Jaycee. He has no need for spells, like you."

"And I'm sure that he begged you not to tell anyone about him," she retorted, though the idea that someone else in this castle had magic anything like hers was intriguing. "Do you have any idea what Uther would do to him if he knew? Uther would kill me if he knew, and I've been living in this household from the time that I was an infant. What do you think he would do to a boy that he doesn't know?"

"I think that the two of you can help each other if you'll give him a chance," Gaius explained. "I've never met magic like yours, Jaycee. Merlin is even more powerful. Until you started using it when you were a child, I'd always believed that magic had to be studied. Yet you and Merlin have never studied it and are more powerful than sorcerers who have been practicing for years."

"Gaius, I can't do that. You know my rule. I don't associate myself with anyone who does magic. If Merlin gets caught or if something happens, he could tell Uther what I am in order to save his own neck. I can't have him knowing that I—Gaius, did you tell him that I have magic?" she snapped, her eyes wide with fear.

"Of course not. I promised you that I would never tell anyone about your secret, Jaycee." He looked offended that she would even consider such a thing.

"And I'm sure that Merlin asked you the exact same thing, yet I know that he has magic," she pointed out.

"I only promised Merlin that I wouldn't tell anyone who would harm him. You mean him no harm. I am nothing if not a man of my word," he said. "Merlin wants no trouble. He's promised me that it he will stay out of trouble."

"I promised Arthur that I would stop snooping through his drawers when cleaning his chambers, but I still do that every single day," she pointed out.

"Any other confessions you'd like to give?" Arthur asked, stepping into the room.

"I thought you barred the door," she hissed at Gaius.

"Barring me from my own chambers? What have you don't now?" he asked her bemusedly.

"I—" she stared at Gaius for some kind of help. He shrugged discretely. "I fell on my way into the castle this morning and scraped my knee. I had sent for Gaius for some poultice to prevent infection. He was…he was out gathering herbs and stopped in to check out the wound. Obviously, I didn't want anyone to see me lifting my skirts, Arthur."

"And you're okay?" the prince asked. He thought he was hiding his concern for her, but she could see it glimmering beneath his lazy, easygoing smile. "Or will Gaius be amputating your leg this evening?"

"Unfortunately, it's quite serious and I'll be going downstairs for an immediate removal. But I thank you for your concern," she mocked. "And thank you, Gaius, for coming and checking on me. I was just being a baby about the cut." She beamed at him. "I'll consider the, uh, advice you gave me, Gaius."

The old man smiled and babbled something appropriate before leaving the two of them in the chamber alone. "Gaius didn't have his herb basket with him," Arthur observed.

"He has a new assistant. A friend of his from way back when. She sent her son up here to learn from Gaius. He must have had the boy bring the them back to his chambers," she suggested. It was plausible enough. And Arthur would find out that Merlin existed one way or another. "Your father beheaded another sorcerer today."

Arthur glared at her, warning her what could be heard with the door open. He strode across the room and slammed the door shut, locking it this time to make sure that they weren't interrupted. "At least it wasn't you," he said seriously.

"Arthur, the mother of the man he killed wants to kill you. She threatened your life. She said an eye for an eye, a son for a son. You have to promise me that you'll be careful. She was serious and the spell that she used…she's powerful, Arthur. Promise me that you'll be careful," she insisted, gathering the basket of linens to her hip.

"I've never let anything happen before," he pointed out.

"Because I've always been able to warn you. But this one I'm seriously concerned about, Arthur. Please."

He stepped up close and pressed a brotherly kiss against her forehead. "You'll be standing there, looking over my shoulder the entire time," he said before stepping away from her again. "Could you make sure that you have the red tunic ready for the feast?"

"Oh yeah; so much for being more than a servant."


	4. Chapter III

**Hey guys! So, I generally try to keep to a schedule and update every other day for each of my stories. I have no problem doing that, but I do have a different problem. I need to see reviews in order to know what you guys are thinking. It's a little difficult to know if people are liking the story or not when I can't look at the feedback. For that reason, I'm implementing a new _new_ system.**

**On each chapter, a number of reviews will be asked for at the end (never more than five, depending on that story's following). In order for the next chapter to be posted, I'm asking for that number of reviews. In other words, my lovely, beautiful, loyal readers are setting the pace. If you want the chapter the next evening, all you need to do is review. If you don't really care when it comes out, don't review. Okay?**

**I hope that you guys understand that I'm not doing this to be mean or vindictive. Rather, I'm doing this to better myself as an author and my stories, ultimately giving me the ability to write better for you all. Okay?**

**Happy Reading!**

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><p><strong>Chapter III<strong>

Dinner was a slow affair that seemed to drag on for an eternity. Gwen kept shooting Jaycee glances of complete understanding, as they were both stuck in the same position. Morgana was in a wretched mood because of the execution that morning, even after she had arrived late to the feast. Uther enjoyed the compliments the lords gave him about keeping the kingdom free from magic. And Arthur drank even to leave him slurring his words by the end of the night. By the time the welcome celebratory feast was finished, at least the meals and festivities, Jaycee had needed to brace Arthur's entire weight on her shoulders.

"Come on, my Lord," she said with a groan as she helped him to his bed. He flopped down like a flat cake the knights made when provisions were running low on their journeys. "Into bed with you," she added. Though it was hardly proper, she yanked his nice boots from his feet and tossed them in a heap in the corner. It didn't really matter where they ended. Arthur wouldn't touch them and she would be the one to clean them up in the morning. Arthur probably wouldn't notice if they sat there until their next use.

"Jaycee," he called, his voice horse and the syllables of her name jamming into one strange sound. "You have the prettiest eyes," he informed her in a voice that was only broken by the hiccups.

Jaycee chuckled to herself and smiled. "And you are completely in your cups tonight, Arthur," she replied, tossing his favorite crumpled up pillow at him and pulling the blankets over his head. She watched him turn onto his side and curl his arms around the other pillows that were lying unused on the bed. "If only you would give me a compliment when you weren't a drunken sod," she muttered, making sure that the fire was stoked with enough would to keep the prince warm overnight.

James was waiting for her at the gate, not nearly as drunk as the other knights, but definitely having had too much. She wedged her shoulder beneath her brother's, as she had with the prince, and started walking him back towards their home. "You seem troubled," he noted, his words running together, but not as severely as Arthur's had. "I hope that doesn't mean you'll be having nightmares this evening as well."

"I always have nightmares," she replied. "But for the sake of keeping our house from burning down, I hope I can control my powers tonight as well. With the liquor on your breath, we'd be liable to set the entire house aflame."

"Are you trying to call me drunk?" he demanded.

"I don't believe I was _trying_, brother," she retorted. She helped him into bed much the same way she had Arthur. That was the way of her life. The man that she had been in love with for most of her life saw her as a sister and the man to whom she _was_ a sister saw her as a threat. Her bed provided little comfort, the quilt too thin on her waist and too thick on her legs. She spent the night tossing and turning. She was telling herself that she couldn't sleep because she was too warm, because she couldn't find a comfortable spot. But she knew what the truth was. She couldn't sleep because she was worried about Gaius' new ward.

The boy had magic, supposedly magic that was as powerful as hers. Maybe even _more _powerful than her. Lord, but wouldn't that be a thing to see? Maybe she should go and talk to him, give him a chance to—_ No. You cannot do that. That is far too much to risk. If _**_anything_**_ happens, Merlin would hold far too much power. _She would be better off leaving well enough alone. Merlin would only be a problem if she let him. Turning over onto her stomach for the millionth time, she pulled the single quilt up around her shoulders and let sleep take her.

_The blue ball of light was floating closer and closer to her, to the form that was huddled in her lap. Arthur's head was resting on her thigh, his hand loosely clasped around hers. "Get away!" she screamed at the light. "Go away. Leave us alone. Please just leave us alone!" She shouted again and again, but the light grew closer and Arthur grew fainter in her arms. "Please! You can't leave me. Arthur, please don't leave me. Please!"_

Jaycee sat upright in bed, her hands clenched in the sheets on either side of her. The linens were drenched in her sweat, her hair having grown all the more frizzy in her sleep. She struggled against the hold the dream still had on her, remembering the feeling of Arthur dying in her arms. She closed her eyes and slid from the bed, dressing quickly and stripping her bed down to the mattress and its cover. James wouldn't be happy that she was going to wash them _again_, but it was necessary. Other than that, the morning began the same that it had all the previous days. By the time that her brother was awake, she had their morning gruel ready to eat and lunches packed for while they were both at the castle for the day.

Arthur was already up and ready, though the state of his chambers said that he was going to be in a less than great mood during the day. Sighing, she reached down and grasped the bedside rug in her hands, bushing the window open and leaning out again. Arthur was on the in the training fields, that all too familiar smirk on his face. "He's at it again," Gwen called from Morgana's window. It was how Arthur dealt with his bad days. He pretended to be in a good moo, but always seemed to find it necessary to torture someone else.

The two girls watched the young serving boy struggle to hold up the heavy wooden target while running, Arthur throwing knives at him all the while. "He has such a kind soul," Jaycee murmured to herself. "Of course, he does tend to be a pompous ass." The younger serving boy tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground, the target rolling from his grasp and coming to a stop against Merlin's foot. "Oh, this isn't going to end well," she muttered. She could feel the immensity of that moment in her bones and couldn't feel a single _good_ thing in it.

Arthur's smirk fell into a dark amusement, which was never a good sign. Arthur only got _that_ particular look on his face when he had something devilish in mind. She let go of one end of the rug and rubbed her forehead. It would be too risky, for all of them, if she were to help Merlin. So, instead, she watched as Merlin swung a punch at the prince, who just as easily caught it and twisted Gaius' new ward's arm behind his back before unceremoniously having him thrown into the dungeons. "We both knew that wasn't going to end well," Jaycee called to Gwen.

"I didn't think the boy would try to hit him," Gwen replied. "Doesn't he know who Arthur is?"

"He's new to Camelot. His mother was a friend of Gaius' and asked the physician to keep track of her son. He's probably heard of Prince Arthur, but he wouldn't know what he looks like," Jaycee replied, tampering the connection that she seemed to feel towards the boy. He was hauled from the courtyard as if he was little more than a string bean on a pole. Arthur turned back to look at the knights, at the men that he saw as his brothers and friends. She sighed heavily and looked up at the heavens. "He's got a heart of gold and not a single soul will see it when he acts like this."

Jaycee beat the rug against the stone wall once more before returning it to its rightful place and sprinting down the stairs to courtyard and down into Gaius' chambers. "Your ward has caused problems," she shouted, stepping forward and to put out a hand to catch Gaius before he fell. She tended to startle him when she stormed in unannounced. She helped the old man down the steps of his ladder and made sure he'd regained his balance before continuing. "Merlin insulted Arthur, who had him thrown in prison," she explained hastily.

"I told that boy his magic would bring him nothing but trouble," Gaius hissed in a nearly inaudible voice. "There's hardly anything that I can do. Arthur has every right to throw him in prison."

"You're the court physician and a friend of the King. Can't you do something about this?" she asked. While what Merlin had done was technically something that could be punished by time in jail, Jaycee wasn't exactly happy with the decision. Not that she really had any say over the politics of things. "Oh, never mind. I'll deal with this. I can't promise that I'll get him off without any punishment," she warned.

"Whatever punishment Merlin receives might be just what he needs," Gaius said quietly. "Perhaps the two of you will have a moment to talk."

"The only person I need to talk to is my pompous, brainless, heartless best friend," she muttered to herself.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: So, the next update will be up in three days or within 24 hours of receiving THREE REVIEWS<strong>


	5. Chapter IV

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! I know that it has been a lifetime since I last updated. Let me explain what all happened (if you don't care to read, just know that I AM SORRY AND I AM BACK). One of my horses collapsed, which lead to an unexpected vet bill. Which meant that I had to be more serious about making money, instead of just relaxing. It was all freaking insanity. Anyways, I'm home now. I'm planning about two weeks of solid updates. After that, my writing brain (which was on overdrive over break) will be finishing up and cranking out a few new stories. Okay!**

**Tonight, I'm updating this story and _Chasing the Sun_. Tomorrow, I'll be updating _Feathers for the Sky_ and _Unwritten. _Oh, and for those who read my _Frozen_ series, I'm not sure what happened. I'm investigating. **

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><p><strong>Chapter IV<strong>

Jaycee felt bad, watching him be pelted by the rotted vegetation and fruits, but it was the only thing that she could have done in order to get him free of the dungeon. Gwen stopped to talk to the boy, her cheeks flaming as she said something obviously embarrassed her. "What are you staring at?" Arthur asked, bending low of her ear so that his lips grazed her ear and caused her to jump a mile in the air. "It never ceases to amuse me."

"Well, I'm glad I can provide some amusement, my Lord," Jaycee replied, fully aware of the people that were milling around them. In childhood, it was okay for the two of them to tease each other, for them to be best friends. The older they got, though, the less okay it was. Uther had kept her at his side, had treated her as a ward until she was old enough to start working. That was when she'd been told to keep away from the prince, to make sure that she was always subservient to him. Of course, that was also when Arthur had allowed her to start pretending they weren't friends when they were in public.

"You have indeed provided today's amusement, Jaycee," he replied, looking over her head at Merlin in the stocks.

"This isn't funny, Arthur. We agreed that he needs to be punished, but putting him in the stocks was not done for your entertainment," she chastised quietly.

Arthur sighed and dragged her down the alley between two homes. "I don't know what you're upset about. I thought we had an understanding. If I did something, you need to tell me. How else am I supposed to know?" he growled at her.

"This has nothing to do with you and me, Arthur," she hissed. "This is about you acting like an ass."

"Jaycee,—"

"Don't. Unless what you're going to tell me is that you're sorry for laughing at Merlin, I don't want to hear it." She stormed away without another word, her frustration with him evident. Arthur could only watch her, frustrated that he couldn't follow her. "You would think that I would have learned after twenty years," he muttered.

James appeared at his side, having been lurking at the entrance to the alley. "Please," James scoffed. "The only things that are constant about Jaycee are her love of baking and her desire to kill you if you wake her in the middle of the night." Arthur couldn't but smile at the picture that was painted of his best friend. "Besides, sometimes I think she does it just to see if you'll still get upset that she's angry at you."

Of course, Jaycee's defense of the young warlock and James' words about his sister didn't help Arthur's attitude towards Merlin when the two crossed paths less than an hour later. Merlin used magic, however cautiously, to get Arthur on his back in the pile of flour sacks. While Jaycee was more than content with letting Merlin beat Arthur a time or two, she couldn't let anyone know that magic could get so close to the castle. If Uther started searching people, she wasn't entirely certain she'd be able to keep herself hidden.

Arthur took Merlin down the moment that the younger man stopped fighting. Using the broom, brushed the young servant to the ground and made a show of sweeping the ground around him. He looked up at the crowd around him, laughter brimming in his eyes. Until he met Jaycee's steely, disappointed gaze. Her arms were folded across her chest, her mouth pursed in disappointment, her brows raised infinitesimally. It was a look that he knew all too well, one that he had received more times than he could count. He was pretty sure that he could hear her steady breathing while she tried to calm herself down. Gaius was standing at her side, wearing a similar look of disappointment on his face.

Unbeknownst to Merlin, the sad look on Jaycee's face had nothing to do with his decision to use magic against the prince. She turned on her heel and stormed away, muttering about stupid princes and stupider physician's assistants who were going to get themselves killed. The guards came forward to take hold of Merlin, probably to throw him into the dungeon or stocks again. "Wait." Merlin turned in surprise to look at the prince. "Let him go. He may be an idiot but he's a brave one. There's just something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it." The words said, Arthur fought the urge to sprint after Jaycee. There were certain things that a prince couldn't do. Chasing after the maid that was responsible for cleaning his rooms was most definitely one of them.

"Jaycee, wait!" he called as he neared her. She was practically sprinting towards the woods, her posture still stiff and tense. "Will you at least hear me out?" he pleaded, but her strides were eating up the distance into the woods. "Jay!" Arthur gripped her elbow and pulled her around to look at him. "I cannot apologize to you if you keep running from me."

"Am I the one that you need to apologize to?" she snapped. "You humiliated that boy. Purposely and without reason. You went after him. I cannot keep defending you if you keep making stupid decisions."

"Stupid?"

"Oh, was that not a royal enough word for you? Would you prefer that I use the word moronic? Or shall I come up with another?"

"Jaycee, come on! He's just a servant."

"So am I! And if you're okay with throwing him around in the town market, then you should be okay if one of the men did so to me." She jutted her chin up and glared at him daringly.

"It's different with you. How many times do I have to say this, Jaycee?" He sighed. "What do you want me to do? Should I go apologize to the boy? I already let him go free without punishment."

"Things are complicated with Merlin, Arthur. Promise me that you will try to leave him alone." She was glaring at him again, giving him that look that dared him to disagree with her. After extracting the promise from him, Jaycee rose onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I have to make sure that everything is ready for the feast tonight."

In the castle, Merlin found himself berated by Gaius for using magic in the middle of a crowded town square. "How could you be so foolish?"

"He needed to be taught a lesson."

"Magic must be studied, mastered, and used for good. Not for idiotic pranks!"

"What is there to master? I could move objects like that before I could talk!"

"Then by now you should know how to control yourself!"

"I don't want to." Gaius stood back a little, stunned by the declaration. "If I can't use magic, what have I got? I'm just a nobody and I always will be. If I can't use magic, I might as well die." Gaius closed his eyes sadly, seeing the pain in the young boy's eyes as he marched away. His sighed heavily, staring at the door Merlin had marched throw and slammed shut.

"Well, that was dramatic," Jaycee said, leaning her hip against the doorjamb. She hadn't heard much of what was said, especially since she'd practically sprinted from the forest to make sure that Merlin was okay. She'd only heard Merlin's melodramatic declaration that he would rather die than be forced to stop practicing magic. "I suppose I should go and talk to him," she muttered, her arms crossed over her chest. "That is what you've been pushing me to do, isn't it?"

"It might improve the situation if you were the one to go in there. We both know that it has been far too long since I practiced magic," Gaius said quietly.

"I'm sensing a theme here. You men make mistakes and expect me to clean it up." She sighed again and took the step forward to cross the room. Merlin was lying face down across his bed, his arms covering his face. "Take off your shirt," she said in lieu of a greeting.

"What? Why?"

"You were in a fight with a man who's been trained to kill from infancy. You probably have some bruises. Now, take off your shirt," she repeated, swallow her amusement over the distress on his face. "I have magic. Very similar to your own." Merlin's back revealed scrapes and bruises from where he'd hit the ground and the prince's fists. "I don't need spells or incantations. I've had magic for as long as I can remember." She took the cloth at the nightstand and dipped it in the basin, dabbing at the scrapes.

"You were born with it?" he asked softly.

"That's what my brother tells me," she replied.

Merlin pushed to a sitting position, his elbows resting on his knees. "You don't know why I was born this way, do you?"

"Merlin, I don't know why _I_ was born this way," she replied laughingly.

"We're…we're not monsters, are we?"

Jaycee chuckled and stopped trying to clean the wounds and looked at him. "Don't ever think that, Merlin. I don't know much about magic. If I'm not learning about how evil the entire art is evil, I'm learning from Gaius. But he can't really teach me much. There's too much to worry about. But I do know one thing for certain, Merlin. You and I, we're not monsters. We were born different, born with these abilities. But that doesn't make us monsters; any more than learning how to fight makes a man a rapist. It's about personal choices. Do you choose to help people, or to use your powers to do whatever you want?"

"Why have you been avoiding me?" he asked her.

"I haven't—"

"I know that you have, Jaycee. From the moment that you found out I had magic, you've run from me like a plague."

"I suppose that's true. And I should probably apologize for that. The truth is, magic is outlawed here. For the longest time, I have been the only person around here with magic. At least, the only person who hasn't been executed yet. I was worried that, if I got close to you or hung around, we'd be found out. It was as much for your protection as for mine."

"So…what changed your mind?" he asked her then.

"I have never met another sorcerer who hasn't had to practice and study. And, once you made it clear that you were going to argue with the prince at every turn, I figured I should probably step forward and introduce myself to you."

"You have no idea why we're like this, though. Can you?"  
>"No. I can't. But I can tell you that if you ever stop with your whining and complaining, you and I could be good friends. I'm sure there are many that I could teach you and many that you can teach me. We can help each other, Merlin."<p>

"I do not whine!" he retorted.

"Oh sure," Jaycee chuckled as she pushed to her feet. "Out of the whole speech, that's all you heard. Lovely. You're just as brainless as the rest of them." She paused at the door. "Get some rest, Merlin. I have to go look in on Arthur."

"He doesn't deserve you, you know!" the young warlock shouted after her.

"I know that he seems like a prat, but Arthur's not as bad as you think, Merlin. When he's with the knights and the rest of the men, he tends to show off a little. But give a chance. I promise you he's not as much of an idiot as he seems. Good night, Merlin."

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><p><strong>Author's Note Cont.: Short chapter tonight. A little bit of a filler, but it sets up some important things from Saturday's chapter. Okay? Review, please. <strong>


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